By Thomas Halse - Year 12, Lawrence Area School
Sitting in the back of the old bus, my thoughts whirled.
Fearfully, a few thoughts kept repeating in my head: ''How many times had this bus made this trip? How many men have been incarcerated in this high stonewall-built prison? Did I really do what they charged me for?''
I wouldn't think it was such a cruel and unforgiving place from the front.
The clean, well-kept entrance and lawns lulled me into a false sense of security.
But behind those walls hid a dark and gloomy hell, ridden with some of the worst the region offered - both prisoners and guards.
It had a reputation for people going in, but rarely coming out.
It was one of the last places I wanted to be sent to.
I shuddered. The back of the bus was like a snake sliding its way around the corner, marking our last moments as free men.
Peering out my window, I watched the sweet green grass in the surrounding fields go by.
Its vibrant colour was in stark contrast to the looming, dark and intimidating concrete wall to my right.
I clung to the hope that I could see the sight at least once more in my life.
I planted the image and the smell of freedom firmly in my mind, in the hope it would null the terrors that awaited me.
As the bus lurched to a stop in front of the steel gate, I felt a tremor run up my hand.
The fear felt like it had its anchor in me.
All I could do was keep moving forward in the hope it would pass in time.
A sudden chanting broke my deathly stare.
Prisoners lined the fences like a bunch of dogs awaiting dinner time.
They kept chanting, ''New fish! New fish!'' as we cautiously made our way into the open air.
There seemed to be an immense difference in the atmosphere in prison compared with the outside.
The atmosphere felt as if I was a hostage waiting for my time to be up.
The air felt heavier and weighed me down.
As the guards lined us up, we finally met the hard man that would be the captain of the guards, Captain Hadley.
Hadley's presence was like a towering giant.
It felt as if his gaze was clawing at all of us, asking for one of us to slip up.
I did my best not to be too intimidated by him, but it was hard.
The guards finally signalled for us to move through the surrounding mob of prisoners.
We moved quickly through to the true entrance of Shawshank.
It was void of light, making it hard to see far.
The guards had warned us if we were to move, breathe or speak, then we would be in for a fate worse than death.
This threat was incomprehensible, how they could limit someone so much?
There was one prominent thought that had been running through my head - that I felt out of place in this prison.
It's as if I did not belong, like I have done nothing wrong.
I noticed someone was watching, slowly judging us from the shadows.
Their gaze was piercing, even more so than Hadley's.
His gaze settled on me.
It felt like I was being held hostage and he was the puppeteer.
He was slowly trapping me both physically and emotionally in these concrete walls.
Once he had finished, he stepped out of the menacing shadows.
We were then introduced to the person who ran the prison - Warden Norton.
The aura that circled him was one that was not to be trifled with.
I felt the fear and sweat drip down my face in buckets.
After the introduction, they moved us through to the main part of the prison.
My thoughts were now more of a whirlwind than before.
How long would I survive?
Will I live long enough to breathe light fresh air and maybe even feel the luscious spring meadows again?
